Duckling
by alanwolfmoon
Summary: Wilson is depressed. House remedies this with a little help from his Aunt Sarah--and a duck.


House smirked, as he limped up to his friend's apartment door. Wilson was really depressed, these days. To the point that he had been avoiding leaving the apartment.

It bothered House. And he maybe felt a little bit responsible for it, though a lot of it was because of Amber's death. So he figured he should be the one to fix it.

Wilson raised his head off the pillow, from where he had been dozing, not awake, but not really asleep either, as he heard banging on his door.

He knew that sound. Cane on wood. His door had so many dents in it it wasn't even funny.

He was just dragging himself off the bed, when House entered, carrying a… basket, a backpack slung over one shoulder.

House put the basket down, carefully, and then took a box out of the pack, and what looked like an… incubator… out of the box.

He plugged it in, then reached into the basket, and pulled out a much smaller, apparently battery-operated one, and carefully, gently eased an egg out of the first and into the second.

Wilson stared at him.

House got to his feet after closing the bigger incubator.

"Need to stash this here for a while. You're cool with that, right?"

Wilson looked at him, "why do I have the impression that you aren't hatching a chicken?"

"Because I'm not. At least I don't think so. You know how my aunt sarah has a farm up in New York?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well she was driving down to visit my mom, but there's a snowstorm in Virginia, and my mom's power is out, so the incubator wouldn't work, so she dropped a few eggs off at my place—she meant to give them to my cousin's kids, but figures she'll have to wait for the next batch, since these should hatch any day now. The two at my place have already hatched, but Pearl and April across the hall thought they would be wonderful pets, so I don't have to worry about them. I just brought them across when they started to hatch, so they'd imprint on the old ladies instead of me."

"House. Why can't you keep this one at your place?"

"I've got a case. I won't be home for the next few days, and the little guy'd be stuck in the incubator. Since you're being such a lazy ass, I figure you'll at least be around to open the lid and let it out."

"House. What are they? You're not having me be responsible for an ostrich baby, or something?"

"Dude, the egg's tiny."

"well sorry, I'm not that experienced with egg identification."

House sighed, rolling his eyes, "it's a duck. Or a goose, I'm not sure. Probably a duck, though, since she's got Toulouse, Muscoveies, and Pekins and the egg doesn't look big enough for a Toulouse."

Wilson blinked at him, "what?"

"Toulouse is a kind of goose. Pekins and Muscovies are ducks. One of the eggs that hatched was a Muscovy, the other was a Pekin. This one looks more like the Pekin egg."

"What am I supposed to do if it starts to hatch? You said it would imprint on the first person it saw!"

House shrugged, "I'm sure you can handle it."

And with that, he left.

Wilson stared after him, utterly bewildered.

House smirked, as he got back in his car.

Sarah was in the hall, talking to April and Pearl about their new ducks.

She looked at him with a smile, "what did he say?"

"He didn't make me take it back, which for him is about equivalent to a yes."

She smiled, "Are you sure you don't want one?"

He shrugged, "I'll catch another rat, or something. I'm always afraid I'll step on a duck."

Sarah smiled, "they'll get out of your way."

He shrugged, "Still."

She shrugged, and patted him on the shoulder.

"It should hatch quite soon."

House nodded, "good."

A day later, when House was at work, he got the frantic call he had been expecting.

"It's hatching!"

"Good. Don't mess with it, just let it climb its way out. Open the top of the incubator so it can get air and whatever."

He shut the phone, and turned it off.

Wilson sat, helpless, as a tiny little feathered head poked out of the egg, and looked at him.

It wobbled its way out of the egg, and curled up, asleep.

Wilson stared at it.

It was so… adorable.

House showed up almost immediately, with his aunt in tow.

Wilson looked at his friend, then at his friend's aunt, then back at his friend, "you're a bastard, you know that right?"

"What? She just got back from visiting my mom. Right?"

Sarah nodded, smiling, and coming over to crouch by the incubator.

"Beautiful."

The small brown-yellow duckling continued to sleep.

Sarah helped Wilson get a heated box set up in a corner, and Wilson worried about having a pet in the apartment building.

House informed him that there were no rules about ducks in his building code, knowledge that Wilson found rather suspicious.

Once the duckling was settled, Sarah sat with Wilson and told him how to raise the duck—and gave him duck diapers for later.

Wilson sat, fascinated, as he watched his new pet sleep.

House couldn't quite suppress a grin.

Nor could he suppress one week later, when he sat on the couch in his friend's apartment, and watched Wilson walk around, followed by the duck.

Wilson named the duck Robert, because Chase had been House's first duckling.

It was only later that they found out he was a girl. The duck, that was. Not Chase.

Wilson was a lot less depressed, and House was pleased by the improvement in his friend's mood.

Plus, it was funny to watch Wilson walk down the street with Roberta on a leash.


End file.
